I loved having the opportunity to become acquainted with these organizations, both by perusing their websites and speaking with representatives of each group. I was also amused to discover that Sisters, the trendy little sex toy shop that a few friends and I had popped into on a whim last summer in Tel Aviv, was renting space in Bayit Ba’namal, a building owned by comme il faut… 🙂

As I wrote in this blog post, I recently had the privilege to profile Tel Aviv’s Gallery of International Naive Art for Haaretz‘s ESSENCE Lifestyle Magazine. What an amazing experience that was! Now that you’ve had a chance to read my personal thoughts about the gallery and naive art, how about reading the article itself?

At this point, I’m sure it comes as no secret to anyone that I love to write. Stringing words into sentences and stories brings me a great deal of pleasure, whether I’m doing it for work or play. Sometimes, when it comes to work assignments, I do the best I can with a subject that doesn’t really resonate with me, but other times, I feel truly privileged to be able to do what I do, especially when it comes to raising awareness of important issues. This is one of those times.

Photo courtesy of Leket Israel

Through my work as a freelance writer for the Haaretz newspaper’s Commercial Department, I was recently given the opportunity to meet with Joseph Gitler, director of Israel’s largest national food bank and food rescue organization – Leket. I was given a tour of their facilities and spoke with Joseph at great length about the amazing organization he founded as well as topics such as poverty, need, nutrition, voluntarism Leket , environmental sustainability and more.

The link below takes you to the article I wrote as a result of that meeting. It was published in Haaretz’s “The Power of Giving” supplement, which was distributed with Monday’s English-language edition of the newspaper. (more…)

I’ve been staring at my computer screen for some time now, trying to come up with a zippy little introduction for my first article in the Haaretz lifestyle magazine ESSENCE, which hit the newsstands on Friday. I don’t know if it’s the lack of caffeine in my system, the lack of caffeine in my system, or the lack of caffeine in my system, but nothing exciting comes to mind.

In any event, the article is about the more than 30 walking tours run by the Association for Tourism Tel Aviv-Jaffa, including the four free tours in English (the rest are in Hebrew). The article isn’t on the Haaretz website, so I’ve taken the liberty of uploading to my blog (having used a total of three different computers for scanning, PDFing and uploading, thank you very much). I loved writing the article, probably because the tours all sound so fascinating! (more…)

When I gave birth to the Little One, I almost died. The pregnancy itself had been a difficult one. Questionable genetics combined with a bad obstetric history (and that would be putting it mildly) dictated that I would be watched carefully, and that we would always err on the side of caution. Once we cleared the initial genetic hurdles, I found myself faced with such issues as the unexpected discovery at week 16 of an incompetent cervix (resulting in urgent surgery to put in a cerclage and me working from home for the remainder of the pregnancy) and the subsequent diagnosis of gestational diabetes. To make matters worse, I was utterly depressed. Despite the fact that the pregnancy was progressing relatively decently – if not smoothly, the fear that something would somehow go horribly wrong was never far from my mind. Four failed pregnancies led me to believe that the odds were not in my favor, which meant that I basically spent my entire pregnancy holding my breath and waiting for something to go wrong.

Nothing in my wildest dreams – or nightmares – could have prepared me for what I experienced when I gave birth. The bleeding began once my son was out, and it simply wouldn’t stop. The placenta wasn’t coming out and my uterus wasn’t contracting as it should have. In short, I was hemorrhaging. I suddenly felt weak and sick, and as the blood drained from my face and I turned white, I heard my husband pleading with me to stay awake.

As the medical team worked feverishly to get my body to do what it was supposed to, I was consumed by sheer terror; I was sure that I was dying, and even began to think about my husband having to raise our son as a single parent. An anesthesiologist was hovering outside the room, ready to rush me into surgery in the event that the doctors wouldn’t be able to stop the bleeding, which would have necessitated the removal of my uterus in order to save my life. Fortunately, we didn’t reach that stage. The doctors managed to stop the bleeding, employing a number of often painful techniques and persevering until it worked. I received four units each of blood and plasma, and was hooked up to oxygen after they discovered that my oxygen saturation levels were low. I remained in the delivery room for approximately twelve hours after giving birth, at which point I was moved to a room in the maternity ward that was directly across from the nurses’ station.

While the doctors in the hospital refused to discuss it, my own doctor confirmed what I already assumed to be true. My life had been in danger, and I could have died. While the birth itself had been fairly routine, my condition deteriorated rapidly within an hour. There was no indication that what I had experienced was in any way related to the problems I’d had during the pregnancy. What had happened to me could happen to anyone, without any prior warning.

And that’s why I was so utterly appalled by this article in last Friday’s Haaretz Magazine about unassisted home births. Don’t get me wrong – I can certainly respect that there are some women who are turned off by the hospital experience, or that some women wish to give birth naturally and with no painkillers (I, on the other hand, informed the nurses every ten minutes or so that without an epidural, I wouldn’t give birth…). I also realize that most births tend to proceed as they should, and that complications are minimal. But what about those few births that go wrong, those births that go so spectacularly off course that the lives of the mother and and/or the baby are in danger? What do you do when you’re giving birth alone in your bathroom and your baby won’t come out? What do you do when the bleeding just won’t stop?

I was shocked by the women in the article, angered by what I perceived as being ignorance and misguided priorities. Isn’t it more important to survive a birth procedure that might not be precisely to your liking than to die as a result of the “perfect” birthing experience? I realize that given my own background, I may not be the best person to judge. Perhaps I am overly sensitive when it comes to such issues, but I cannot help becoming incensed by women who naively believe that nothing can happen, that despite all of the medical technology placed at our disposal, they are prepared to turn their backs on modernity in the most extreme manner possible. Some of you will condemn me for being judgmental, and I accept that there’s truth in that. I just cannot help but think that had I chosen this path, my son would not have a mother.

I’ve been following the latest brouhaha in the Anglo-Israeli blogosphere with some interest. Nefesh B’Nefesh (NBN) is sponsoring the upcoming International Jewish Bloggers Convention, due to take place next Wednesday in Jerusalem, and debates are raging about everything from the convention’s target audience to the list of scheduled panelists. Adding fuel to the fire was an article that appeared in the Anglophile section of last Friday’s Haaretz, where the journalist in question seemed more interested in writing a divisive, sensationalist piece that served only to highlight the differences between various local bloggers and create controversy, using predictable quotes and selective background information to reinforce stereotypes.

And he succeeded. The Haaretz article has been used, predictably, as a springboard to attack those bloggers quoted as not being supportive of the conference. Frankly, I have a difficult time understanding what all the hype is about. The NBN agenda is not everyone’s agenda. I may be a Jewish blogger, but only because I’m a blogger who happens to be Jewish. I don’t necessarily blog about Jewish issues, and in the rare instances that I do, it’s most probably because the issue at hand has something to do with Israel. I don’t consider myself to be an aliyah blogger by any stretch of the imagination, and don’t feel anything more than a nominal connection to the realm of the blogosphere known as the Jblogosphere. I’m not interested in the Jewish blogosphere, and while I’m sure I have Jewish readers out there, I don’t consider the Jblogosphere to be my target audience. I never have. When I blog about Israel, it’s to present some aspect of Israeli life to those who don’t know about Israel, not to those who do.

From everything I’ve been reading on the local blogs though, there are definitely people who have a problem with that. At least one blogger has expressed disappointment over Lisa Goldman‘s stance on the conference, based on her quotes in the Haaretz article. Aside from the fact that the journalist obviously selected quotes designed to garner attention (and let’s face it – everyone knows that this is what journalists do), I fail to see the problem of Lisa not being interested in a conference that’s specifically geared towards Jewish blogging. Not everyone who moves here chooses to focus on the aliyah experience. I’ve been here for 17 years and came on my own. Aliyah issues aren’t on my radar, unless they involve my friends, and even then, they’re just someone else’s (often amusing) stories. Like Lisa, I’m far more interested in issues that all Israelis are facing than the issues faced by new immigrants. And also like Lisa, I would much prefer a convention for Israeli bloggers (I can think of at least three blogs written in English by non-Jewish Israelis) than a convention that’s strictly for Jewish bloggers. I’m just not interested.

As bloggers, we all have our own opinions and agendas. If we didn’t, we probably wouldn’t have begun to blog in the first place. My agenda is me – my thoughts, my opinions, my experiences – I don’t think that’s too unreasonable. NBN also has its own agenda, and there’s nothing wrong with that either. What is wrong is when people are bashed for their agendas, or more accurately, for having agendas that don’t mesh with the party line. One commenter (who seems to be connected with the convention’s organization) on the aforementioned blog stated “as to ONE of the agendas of this convention… this convention is hosted by NBN, and what of? They have an agenda, just like most bloggers have. If you don’t like it, then don’t make Aliyah.” So, if I don’t agree with NBN’s agenda, I shouldn’t be in Israel? Rather harsh, no? If this comment is representative of the convention agenda, it looks like I’m better off not attending. Somehow, I don’t think I’d be very welcome.

There was a steep rise last year in the number of women who complained they were fired or had their work conditions significantly worsened because they were pregnant, or after they returned from maternity leave. The numbers were published by WIZO, the Women’s International Zionist Organization, in Israel. The number of complaints from women who claim they were fired while pregnant, undergoing fertility treatment or immediately after returning from maternity leave was up 64% last year. It is illegal to fire women in all these cases, unless the employer has received special permission from the Ministry of Trade, Industry and Labor. The number of women asking for advice about these matters rose 70% in 2007 compared to 2006. According to WIZO, the increase is partly the result of women’s increased awareness as to their rights. Nevertheless, there is also a real rise in the number of firings or other forms of harassment against women. At the same time, many women are still afraid to lodge a complaint against their employers for violating the law. (Haim Bior)”

The statistics are indeed alarming, but what disturbed me even more was the irony of the source. I worked for WIZO in the mid-1990s, writing speeches and other documents, performing secretarial duties and undertaking the occasional translation. At some point during my approximately 11-month stint there, I fell pregnant (in what was to be the first of my five pregnancies). And at some point during early pregnancy, I was given a letter, informing me that I was to be let go. Because I was pregnant at the time, I was told that the firing would go into effect at the conclusion of my maternity leave. In other words, that I wasn’t to return once my leave was up.

As I recall, they were claiming budgetary issues, but given that around the same time they brought in another young native English speaker who began to take over my responsibilities, I assumed it was due to a “difference of opinion” that I’d had with one of the senior board members. In any event, the reason didn’t really matter – what mattered was that I’d been given notice that I was being given the boot.

We were still in the early days of the pregnancy, and I figured that I still had several months to plan my future. I continued fulfilling my duties, such as they were, and continued to be pregnant. I wasn’t happy with the situation (an understatement, to be sure), but as long as I was pregnant, I had my job and my paycheck.

Without going into the gritty details, suffice it to say that working for one of the largest women’s organizations in the world was often a rather demeaning experience. I can remember at least two situations where people tried to use me and trick me in order to obtain information to which they were not privy. I remember how various board members (and often their secretaries as well) treated those of us without any real status. I would get reprimanded for not taking more initiative when editing documents, and would then be reprimanded for making too many changes (one instance of which, I believe, is the reason why I was fired). In short, outside of our little translators’ office (and our extended circle of administrative colleagues), the environment there – for me, anyway, was not terribly pleasant.

When I began to have problems with my pregnancy, I was doubly concerned. I was, of course, concerned for my pregnancy, and, unfortunately, I was also concerned for my job. It appears that my concerns were not unwarranted. Due to the nature and severity of the problems, we had to end the pregnancy. I was home recovering for several weeks after the procedure, and spent a great deal of that time worrying about my job, given that I was no longer pregnant. My experiences thus far in my workplace did not lend to optimism, and I wondered how things would play out.

I didn’t have long to wait. The day of my return, I was called into the director’s office. She left the door open while expressing her sympathies and asking how I was feeling, but shortly thereafter, she closed the door. She didn’t mince words. Now that I was no longer pregnant, the redundancy letter that I had received earlier on would go into effect immediately, and I was put on thirty days’ notice. She also said she was sure that I’d go on to have more children, and hoped that I would still enjoy the upcoming holiday (it was shortly before Passover). I was shocked, but not really. Through the grapevine, I had heard at least one other story about a woman who had lost her job there shortly after returning from maternity leave, though as it had been before my time, I wasn’t able to corroborate the story. So, when I was fired on the very day that I returned to the office after having terminated a second-trimester pregnancy due to a very severe case of Spina Bifida (the ultrasound technician running a routine scan in preparation for the procedure actually exclaimed out loud at the severity), it didn’t come as a huge surprise. I assumed they didn’t want to put things off, given that I was nearing the one-year milestone of my employment, and had I passed it, they would have been required by law to up the severance pay amount.

I probably should have pursued legal options, but in my naivete, I simply let it go. I was unable to verify if the actions they had taken (namely the firing letter while I was pregnant) were in fact legal, and I didn’t like the idea of taking on such a vast organization. That being said, they will never find support in my home. My second-hand clothes will be donated elsewhere, and I’d rather keep my son at home than send him to one of their child care programs. I realize that they do good work, but I’ve also seen the way they treat their own employees, and to this day, find it hard to believe that an organization that purports to stand up for women’s rights could fire a woman when she was pregnant (even a firing that was not supposed to come into effect immediately), and then kick her when she was at one of the lowest points in her life after losing that much-desired pregnancy.

Despite the dearth of political postings lately, anyone who’s been reading this blog for a while probably has at least an inkling as to my political leanings. I was in favor of the Disengagement (though I believe that the way the government has treated the evacuees since then is positively shameful), and in spite of the current shaky state of affairs, I still believe that negotiating a two-state solution is the way to go, even though it’s not a realistic option at the moment. And, when I say that serious negotiations are not realistic, I lay the blame for this on both sides. Palestinian leadership is too fragmented to speak on behalf of all Palestinians in the Territories, and with Hamas currently running the show in Gaza and showering Southern Israel with missiles and rockets, any agreement made at this stage would not be worth the paper it’s written on. That being said, the Israeli government has hardly shown its commitment to the process either, often turning a blind eye to illegal settlement outposts and attempts to change the status quo in various parts of Jerusalem, interpreting agreements to suit their own needs and feigning surprise when the world complains. And, before anyone says anything, there can be no moral equivalence between the relentless, deadly rocket attacks on Sderot and the Western Negev, and the government’s construction plans, but one can hardly blame the powers that be for not taking our pledges and oaths seriously when we can’t even be bothered to make more than half-hearted attempts at fulfilling them ourselves.

Of course, the Olmert government is hardly different from its predecessors in that respect, given the settlement activity that has continued virtually unabated over the years, no matter which government happened to be leading the country at the time. The policy of turning a blind eye to such activity takes on entirely new proportions if one factors in the findings mentioned in this article, written by Meron Rapoport and published on the Haaretz website early this morning.

“More than one-third of West Bank settlements were built on private Palestinian land that was temporarily seized by military order for “security purposes,” according to a report by the Civil Administration that is being published here for the first time.”

“International law allows the seizure of occupied territory, but only for military needs. Instead, Israel built many of the settlements via such seizures, in defiance of a 1979 cabinet decision that forbade using private Palestinian land for settlements.”

“Until the late 1970s, most settlements were built on land seized by military order. In 1979, however, the High Court overturned a seizure order for the land on which Elon Moreh was slated to be built, saying it saw no “security necessity” for the settlement. Following that ruling, Menachem Begin’s government decided that all new settlements or expansions of existing ones would be built only on state land, and since then, military seizure orders officially have not been used for this purpose.

However, a Haaretz investigation found that at least 19 of the 44 settlements on the Civil Administration’s list were established after 1979, which means they violated this decision. Efrat, for instance, was established in 1983.”

What it comes down to is that over the years, the State of Israel has been systematically appropriating land from the Palestinians, claiming it as a military necessity, and then using the land to build settlements, in a move that directly and knowingly contradicted a ruling of the High Court. In other words, it would seem that, legally speaking, certain settlements (Ariel, Kiryat Arba and Efrat, to name but a few) are more illegal than others. (Note that this link to Efrat contains incorrect information about the year of its founding. Efrat was founded in 1983.)

Well, that’s certainly food for thought, isn’t it?

I imagine that to some, after a post like that, it might seem rather frivolous to post a music video and song lyrics. While U2‘s “Sunday Bloody Sunday” was written about the situation in Northern Ireland, it conveys my feelings about the current situation in the Territories quite well.

Sunday Bloody SundayU2

I can’t believe the news today
I can’t close my eyes and make it go away.
How long, how long must we sing this song?
How long, how long?
‘Cos tonight
We can be as one, tonight.

Broken bottles under children’s feet
Bodies strewn across the dead-end street.
But I won’t heed the battle call
It puts my back up, puts my back up against the wall.